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Broc Rossell

There is no one here.
I can’t see through to the other
side of the page.
If there is no song
this can be no clerestorial
10:37 was a minute.
Last Wednesday
probably hosted two flasks.
What does wellwater
wish a sinking stone?
Who cranked up the victrola?
Yesterday there was a boy
in the newspaper who’s never seen
blackened bodies before.
Where is he from?
Why is he looking for me –
who decided I am who he called for?
-Because he doesn’t, he
was alone. If these keys
line up in the tumbler
who will we find behind them?
When I was nineteen I
was in a sleeping bag in Vermont
in a totally empty house
and I saw a formless vessel
in the black eyelid air
exhibiting itself

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